


Love in the time of Quarantine

by Fight_Surrender



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Baz Opens Up, Canon Rewrite, Canon Universe, Confessions, Coronavirus Confessions, End of the World, Enemies to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, No Apocalypse, POV Simon Snow, Pre-Apocalypse, Romantic Fluff, Wilson the Spider, and they were quarantined, but not yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-23 00:16:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23269324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fight_Surrender/pseuds/Fight_Surrender
Summary: I recoil, “You’re suggesting I go home with you?”“Yes.”“To quarantine?”“Yes.”“With your family?”Maybe it's the end of the world? Baz decides to talk about his feelings. There's nobody he'd rather quarantine with than Simon Snow.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 16
Kudos: 177





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration struck this morning. This was going to be a one shot, but I have an idea for a second chapter, well, really it's one funny line, so. 
> 
> Hope this brightens your day just a little.

**Simon** :

The air around me feels insulting. It’s taunting me. Like one wrong breath and I can cause the demise of hundreds. That doesn’t even make sense, but this whole thing is getting to me. The Mage is pretty sure the virus can’t penetrate the wards around Watford, but he’s not certain. The families, old and young are demanding their children come home, to quarantine there. 

I’m not sure where that leaves me. 

I could go to Penny’s, but I’m afraid her mum will throw me out in the street after a few days. Especially with a full house. I’d rather not risk it. 

I’ve committed to feeling sorry for myself, sitting in my bed while Baz bustles around, packing his trunks. Maybe I’ll just stow away in the kitchen and ride it out here. Nobody will notice. Plenty of canned goods, no scones though. I wonder what the toilet paper situation is.

I sigh and lean my head back, tapping it on the headboard. There’s a spider on the ceiling minding his own business. He can be my friend; I’ll call him Wilson. 

Merlin, I’m already losing it. 

“Snow,” Baz says, pulling me back to reality. 

“What.”

“You should come to Hampshire.”

I turn my head and wrinkle my brows at him, “What? Why?”

Baz clears his throat and folds his arms, looking at me like he’s being perfectly reasonable, “Do you have anywhere else to go?” 

“Well, no but—”

He walks over and sits next to me on my bed, with this weird look on his face. For a disorienting moment, my brain struggles to categorize Baz’s expression. I can’t help it; I end up sneering at him when I realize he’s being _kind_. What the hell is happening right now?

I recoil, “You’re suggesting I go home with you?” 

“Yes.”

“To quarantine?” 

“Yes.”

“With your family?”

Baz closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, like he’s reaching within to summon his last shred of patience. I glance up at Wilson to see if he’s morphed into some kind of monster, because clearly this is all a hallucination. 

“Simon,”

Why did he call me Simon? Why did that make my heart flip in my chest? I look at his face-- it’s all wrong. The angles are all muted, soft. His eyes so grey. His lips so full. He has nice lips. I feel my face heating up.

“Look,” Baz says, his eyes locked on mine. Is he putting me in a thrall? I should look away. (I don’t look away.) (Crowley, his eyes are so pretty.) “We’re in the middle of an unprecedented global event. Every day is weird and different and there is bad news around every corner.”

“Well, that’s reassuring,” I say, “Thank you for that ray of sunshine, Baz.”

“Shut up, Snow, let me get this out.” 

My eyes widen as I struggle to process yet another new expression on Baz’s face. He looks pained. And pinkish-grey. Is he blushing? 

“In light of this whole Apocalypse thing—" 

“This isn’t the Apocalypse, Baz.” I shove his shoulder. I believe this is the weirdest moment I’ve ever experienced. If it’s a hallucination or dream, I’ve decided to just roll with it. 

“Toilet paper has become a status symbol,” Baz replies. “These could very well be the end times.”

Baz closes his eyes, turning his head away slightly and the words come in a rush, “Working with you—setting up this truce—I did it partially to get you to help me find my mum’s killer, but also kind of for selfish reasons.” He pauses, inhales, “I don’t want to fight you anymore Simon. I never did."

I know my mouth is hanging open, I can’t help it. I should say something, but I can’t find words right now. Baz just looks so—vulnerable. What I really want to do is touch him, my fingers are itching with it. I need to make contact. To smooth his hair from his face. To wrap my arms around him. I’d say these thoughts were random and unbidden, but I know they’re not. I’ve thought them before. 

Baz presses on, eyes closed, like he’s saying a mantra. “I like you Snow. Romantically. For a long time. I know you don’t like me, I don’t know what I’d do if you did. But I just wanted to clear the air, so maybe we could at least be friends. Until the end of the world, or whatever—,” He tapers off. 

I look at Baz, with his perfect face, his perfect hair, his perfect mouth. He’s biting his lip. He looks delicious. I decide to stop thinking. I lean forward to place my hand on his jaw, turning his head my way. His uncertain thundercloud eyes meet mine. My lips meet his. Then he’s on top of me and I feel like a circuit’s been completed. I bury my hands in his hair, and he kisses me like he’s finally coming up for air. I kiss him back like I’ve finally found the answer. 

I feel so happy, which is ludicrous, but this is so good. Merlin, I’m kissing a boy. I’m kissing Baz. 

I’m going to Hampshire to quarantine with Baz’s family who hates me. And with Baz, who apparently doesn’t. 

Aleister Crowley, I’m living a charmed life.

  
  



	2. The Announcement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Baz are quarentine-ees with benefits at Pitch Manor. They've just become Social Media official. 
> 
> Baz has an announcement to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is garbage, but maybe it will make someone smile. This is totally inspired by a scene in Heartstopper by Alice Oseman. 
> 
> Thanks and apologies to @bazzybelle and @artescapri for having to beta read this drivel.

This is the best quarantine ever.

I mean, minus the creepy dad, sneaky sister and weird babies.

Daphne is lovely though.

Snogging Baz in his giant mansion has been ace.

I even brought Wilson the spider. He lives in a jar on Baz’s windowsill. I didn’t want to leave him alone at Watford, we catch bugs for him to eat in the evenings. On breaks from snogging.

And the food is great.

We’re at dinner now. In his posh dining room, thankfully it’s not Sunday so we’re in our regular clothes. Not that I mind seeing Baz in a suit, he looks amazing. It’s just that his trousers are a bit long on me, and the jacket is a bit tight through the shoulders. Baz won’t stop mocking me about it, but it also makes him push me against the closet door to kiss the daylights out of me, so it’s kind of a mixed bag.

Malcolm and Daphne are quietly discussing the day’s bad news. (This virus is bollocks) (Minus the snogging) The little ‘uns seem to be eating about half their food and dumping the other half on the floor. Mordelia just glares at me while chewing slowly. (She caught us kissing in the solarium.) (She wasn’t pleased.)

Baz clears his throat and takes my hand. “I have an announcement to make.” I feel my face heat up as I struggle to keep my eyes in my head. I have an idea of what he’s going to say, but I can’t believe he’s telling them _ now _ . We literally “officially” became boyfriends last night. I mean, we’ve been going at it for over two weeks, but we formalized things yesterday. Our social media have been blowing up all day. The overarching theme of all the comments is “well it’s about time,” and “yeah, that makes sense.” It’s been relatively underwhelming.

“Simon and I are boyfriends now.”

Yep, he’s going there. I think about crawling under the table and then crawling away. All eyes are on Baz, so they might not notice.

Oh no, now the eyes are on me. Mordelia’s are narrow and I think she just made a slicing motion across her neck. At least Daphne looks happy. Malcolm made kind of a stifled choking sound. I look at him through the corner of my eye, as if he’s something I’m trying to get a better look at in the dark. His face is flicking through multiple emotions, changing color as it goes. I think Daphne just kicked him under the table, making him jump in his chair slightly. He settles with a look of resigned annoyance

“Very well. Er. Congratulations?” He sounds very unsure. Then he straightens, adjusting his tie. (He always wears a tie. I think he even sleeps in one.) “Um. I’m going to need you to keep the bedroom door open at all times going forward.”

Baz’s eyes narrow infinitesimally. I can see the gears turning in his brain. I bet he’s thinking up privacy spells as we speak. I squeeze his hand. He squeezes back.

Malcolm continues, “There will be no hanky panky in this house.” Malcolm Grimm is tutting at us and shaking his finger for emphasis. “No. Hanky. Panky.”

Daphne is covering her mouth with her hand, eyes sparkling with mirth.

I wonder if I hold my breath long enough, could I pass out to escape from this moment? Baz looks both horrified and a little sick.

“Father, did you actually, non-ironically, just use the phrase ‘ _ hanky panky _ ’ ?” Baz croaks, eyes wide, looking a bit panicked.

Daphne starts cackling, pointing at Malcolm. She literally just snorted and is speaking in gasps, deepening her voice into a vaguely masculine tone “No…” She devolves into a fit of laughter. She tries again, “No hanky panky, boys…” She squeals and then Baz starts to snicker. Malcolm looks vaguely sheepish. Mordelia still looks like she’s going to murder me in my sleep. I’m afraid to even smile.

“I don’t want to catch you—” she points at us. At this point, even the babies are laughing, smearing food with their fat little hands. “Canoodling around the house you—” She pats Malcolm’s shoulder, giggling, “Whippersnappers.”

Daphne gently shoves Malcolm’s shoulder and kisses him on the cheek. He grimaces a little and rolls his eyes. His cheeks are flushed. “We’re happy for you boys,” Daphne smiles warmly. “Please keep it PG or use whatever spells are necessary to keep it that way. There are kids around.”

Just when I thought I couldn’t blush any harder. Even Baz looks a little pink. “Well ah.” Baz, for once is stumbling for his words, “Thanks for the—er support.” The chair groans across the wood floor as he stands up, pulling on my hand to follow. Which I do. Gladly.

“I thought I handled that pretty well,” I hear Malcolm murmur as we leave the room. Daphne starts to laugh again. 


End file.
